Rick Harrison, host of the hit reality TV show Pawn Stars, recently sat down with Fox and Friends to talk about Obama’s precious Affordable Care Act, and liberals are furious about what he had to say.

The
owner of the Gold and Silver Pawn Shop in Las Vegas discussed how the
Affordable Care Act affects small businesses, and the negative impact it
has had on his own store. According to Conservative Brief,
Harrison claimed that this healthcare mandate has led to his employee’s
cost of medical insurance coverage rising from $19,000 monthly, up to
$30,000 per month.

“I mean it’s really difficult to do business
sometimes,” Harrison said. “I have 60-year-old women who have to have
pregnancy coverage now. I mean I have some of the squarest ex-cops
working for me now that have to have drug rehab.”

With
no large plantations, there were no large slaveholders, and the county
typified older communities where slavery was passing by personal
manumission; the slaves and freed Negroes outnumbered the whites to make
a potentially dangerous problem. To 6500 whites, there were 7700 slaves
and 1500 freed Negroes. Slave and free, all Negroes lived in intimate
proximity to the whites, a situation which did not exist on large
plantations where overseers came between the masters and field hands.
Field hands in that sense scarcely existed in Southampton County.

The
most successful plantations were operated avocationally by professional
men, doctors and lawyers, since the plantation represented the
aspiration of everyone. In the same way, many of the
plantation-conscious farmers supplemented their agricultural incomes by
working as artisans in small enterprises. Such a man was Joseph Travis,
the honest coachmaker.

He had apprenticed to him a
sixteen-year-old boy, who shared the bedroom of Mr. Travis’ foster son,
Putnam Moore. Mrs. Travis, whose first husband had died, had a baby by
Joseph Travis. This small family had no house servants as such. The few
colored families of slaves lived in a single cluster of buildings around
the farmyard and there was no distinction between house people and
field hands. There the whites and blacks, working together and virtually
living together, shared an hourly and constant companionship, and knew
one another with the casual intimacy of members of the same family.
Though everybody worked hard, the slaves were held to a fairly rigid
schedule.

Working five days a week from roughly sunup until
sundown, they had Saturday afternoons and Sundays off. They were
encouraged to grow garden crops for themselves on allotted plots of
ground, either to fill out their diets according to personal tastes or
for use in trade or barter. Skills were taught them and, as in other
families like the Travises, who could not afford to free their lifetime
investment, sometimes a Negro worked out his freedom at a trade.

Great
attention was given to their religious education. They went to the
whites’ churches, where the Methodist and Baptist preachers of the
peoples’ religion evoked fiery and wondrous images, and they developed
their own preachers, who supplanted the whites’. Such a Negro preacher
acted as Joseph Travis’ “overseer.”

The overseer of this little
family plantation, bearing not even unintentional similarity to Simon
Legree, merely acted for the owner with the few Negroes who worked on
the farm. With Joseph Travis busy at his coachmaking, somebody had to be
in charge of the work, though The Preacher extended his leadership over
the total lives of the three families in the Travis farmyard, and
exerted considerable influence over other Negroes in the scattered
community.

He always said that Mr. Travis was a very kind man,
maybe even too indulgent with his people, and Mr. Travis regarded The
Preacher as something of a privileged character. He had been born in the
county of an African mother and a slave father, who ran away when The
Preacher was a child. He had been raised by his grandmother, who worked
on his religious education, and by his mother, who was deeply impressed
with the child’s gift of second sight.

When the owners’
attention was called to his precociousness, they encouraged him to read
and gave him a Bible. He culled the Bible for predictions and prophesies
which he used to impose his visions on his fellow slaves. He found
portents in the sun and moon, portentous hieroglyphics in leaves and
suchlike, and in general created of himself a mysterious figure of
supernatural gifts.

The Preacher did not regard himself as a
humbug in imposing on his fellows. He actually believed he could read
signs in the sky. “Behold me in the heavens,” the Holy Spirit said to
him, and he beheld and he knew. He knew the signs were directing him
toward a holy mission. In the spring of 1828, he heard a loud noise in
the heavens and, he said, “The spirit instantly appeared to me and said
the Serpent was loosened, and Christ had laid down the yoke he had borne
for the sins of men, and that I should take it in and fight against the
Serpent, for the time was fast approaching when the first should be the
last and the last should be free.”

The twenty-first of August
was a Sunday, in the season when the white people spent the day away at
camp meetings. In The Preacher’s cabin, his wife was fixing Sunday
dinner for their child. In the woods below the fields, six of The
Preacher’s disciples were gathered in the glen, where to a Sunday feast
they added some of the apple brandy which was always handy to acquire.
Only one of them belonged to Mr. Travis – Hark Travis, a magnificently
and powerfully built black man. Two others, Sam and the ferocious Will
Francis, belonged to one of Mrs. Travis’ brothers. As farms were
relatively few in the sparsely settled and wooded country, all the
Negroes were intimately acquainted.

The Preacher, after his
custom of keeping himself aloof, joined the frolic in the middle of the
afternoon, when several hours of feasting and drinking had his followers
in receptive humor. From then until full night he coached them in the
details of his predestined mission in which they were to be allowed to
participate.

At ten o’clock they left the woods and silently
approached the dark farmyard of the Travis house. All lights were out in
the house where the family, tired from their trip to the camp-meeting,
were asleep. In the farmyard stood a Negro named Austin, who joined
them, and brought The Preacher’s band to eight.

The seven
followers went to the unlocked cider press while The Preacher studied
the situation. When the silent man returned, The Preacher directed Hark,
the Apollo, to set a tall ladder against an upper story window sill.
The Preacher climbed the ladder, stepped through the open window, and
tiptoed through the familiar house down to the front door. When he
opened it, his disciples crept in. The fearsome Will Francis held a
broadax and one of the men gave The Preacher a hatchet. Without any
other weapons, the eight men crept into the master bedroom, where Mr.
& Mrs. Travis were asleep.

When The Preacher stood over
them, he paused, looking on the face of the kindly man who had given him
so many privileges. The other Negroes told him the leader must strike
the first blow. After another pause, The Preacher struck suddenly and
awkwardly down at the sleeping man.

The hatchet glanced off,
giving a blow to the side of the head. Mr. Travis, startled into
wakefulness, struggled out of bed, sleepily calling for his wife. When
his bare feet touched the floor, Will Francis, with no confusion of
purpose, brought the broadax down on his head in a single long stroke.
Without another sound, Mr. Travis fell dead to the floor. Whirling, Will
came down with the broadax again, and Mrs. Travis died in her bed
without ever coming fully awake.

The sounds had not aroused the
two sixteen-year-old boys – Mrs. Travis’ son, Putnam Moore, and the
apprentice, Joel Westbrook – asleep in the same bed in a room in another
part of the house. They were killed before they were awakened.

Last,
The Preacher went into the baby’s room. He had often played with the
child and fondled it, and the baby smiled at him when he woke up. The
Preacher backed out, unable to touch the child, and sent in Will and
another follower to knock the baby’s brains out against the brick
fireplace.

With the house theirs, they took four shotguns,
several muskets, powder and shot, and exchanged their clothes for
garments of the dead men. To give a dash to their new costumes, they got
some of the red cloth with which the top of the gig was lined and tore
that into sashes to go around their waists and shoulders. The material
gave out and they made other strips from sheets, which they dyed in the
freely flowing blood. The Preacher felt that this unit was now ready to
serve as the nucleus around which all the slaves of the county would
rally.

With some of the force mounted on Travis’ horses, they
went to the small farm owned by Mrs. Travis’ brother, who was also the
brother of the owner of Sam and Will. This younger Mr. Francis, a
bachelor who lived with his one slave in a single-room house, came to
the door when Will and Sam called to him that they had a message from
his brother.

When he opened the door they grabbed him. He was a
strong man and he fought, calling to his loyal slave for his gun. One of
The Preacher’s men shot Mr. Francis’s slave, Nelson, who managed to
stagger to the back door and escape in the darkness to the woods. He
started out to give the alarm to his master’s brother, the owner of Will
and Sam, but he didn’t make it that far. Mr. Francis was finished off
before Nelson had reached the woods, going down under repeated blows
from the hatchet.

From there The Preacher’s band walked on
through the night to the home of Mrs. Harris, a widow with several
children and grandchildren. Unbeknownst to themselves as they slept,
this family was spared through the agency of their slave, Joe, who
joined The Preacher on the condition that his people be spared.

With
their first recruit, the band descended on the home of the widow Reese,
whose front door was unlocked. They killed her in her sleep, her son as
he awakened, caught the white farm manager who tried to escape in the
darkness. He got off with his life by feigning death, though he was
forever after crippled.

By then other slaves, too frightened to
defend the whites but unwilling to join the insurgents, had fled before
the band, and nearby plantations were warned. Not willing to risk losing
any of his eight followers, The Preacher changed his course.

At
sunrise on Monday morning they reached the substantial home of the
widow Turner…Mrs. Turner’s manager was already at work at the distillery
beside the lane to the house. He was shot and stripped, his clothes
going to the last recruit, the Joe who had saved his own people. Mrs.
Turner and a kinswoman were awakened by the shot and came downstairs to
bolt the door. The fearsome will battered the door down with several
strokes of his ax, and the two women were grabbed in the hallway.

While
they pleaded for their lives, Will went about his skillful work of
execution on Mrs. Turner, and The Preacher pulled Mrs. Newsom, trembling
violently, out of the door. He kept striking her over the head with a
sword he had acquired. The edge was too blunt to kill the screaming
woman and Will, turning from the corpse of Mrs. Turner, methodically
finished off The Preacher’s victim with his ax.

They got silver
there and more decoration for their costumes, and when they left the
silent plantation at full daylight their number had spread to fifteen.
They divided, those on foot under The Preacher swinging by the Bryants’,
where they paused to kill the couple, their child, and Mrs. Bryant’s
mother, before joining the mounted force at the pleasant establishment
of Mrs. Whitehead.

When The Preacher’s force got there, Mrs.
Whitehead’s grown son had already been hacked to death in a cotton patch
while his own slaves looked on. Inside the house three daughters and a
child, being bathed by his grandmother were dead. Will was dragging the
mother of the family out into the yard, where he decapitated her, and a
young girl who had hidden was running for the woods. The Preacher caught
her and, his sword failing him again, beat her to death with a fence
rail. Another daughter, the only member of the family to survive, had
made it to the woods where she was hidden by a house slave.

When
they left the seven dead and mutilated bodies at the Whiteheads’, The
Preacher’s band had grown and acquired more weapons and horses. They had
also drunk more cider and brandy, and they moved boldly ahead to
continue the massacre although they knew that the alarm was out by then.
Several of the next small plantations in their line of march were
deserted. The band divided again, with Will the executioner leading the
mounted force toward the house of his own master, Nathaniel Francis, the
brother of The Preacher’s Mrs. Travis and of the bachelor whose slave,
Nelson, had been among the first to give the warning.

Though the
warning had not reached the Francis plantation, a Negro boy had told
Mr. Francis a wild tale of the slaughter of his sister’s family. Having
heard nothing of The Preacher’s band, Mr. Francis and his mother were on
their way to investigate the grisly scene awaiting them at the Travis
household.

Two of Mr. Francis’ nephews, eight- and three
year-old boys, were playing in the lane as the Negroes rode silently
toward them. The three-year-old, seeing the familiar Will, asked for a
ride as he had many times before. Will picked him up on the horse, cut
off his head, and dropped the body in the lane. The other boy screamed
and tried to hide, but they were too fast for him.

Henry Doyle,
the overseer, seeing this, ran to warn Mrs. Francis. He was shot dead in
the doorway of the house, but not before he had warned Mrs. Francis. A
house slave hid her between the plastering and the roof in one of the
“jump” rooms, and kept The Preacher’s band away from her hiding place by
pretending to hunt for her. When the Negroes had gone on, the house
slave of necessity among them, Mrs. Francis came down to find the other
house women dividing her clothes, including her wedding dress. One
attacked her with a dirk and another defended her. She escaped to join
her husband and be taken to safety.

When the band left the
Francis plantation, the alarm by then was general and the Negroes were
beginning to get drunk. They headed for the road to the county seat.
They found more deserted houses, where faithful slaves had left to hide
their masters, and met other slaves who had waited to join the
insurrectionists. At young Captain Barrow’s the warning had been
received and the overseer had escaped, but Mrs. Barrow, a woman of
beauty, had delayed to arrange her toilet before appearing abroad. She
tarried so long that the Negroes reached the house before she left. Her
husband called to her to run out the back door while he fought from the
front.

In leaving, Mrs. Barrow had the same experience with her
house slaves as had Mrs. Francis. A younger one tried to hold her for
the mob, while an older one freed her and held the young Negro woman
while her mistress escaped. In front, Captain Barrow emptied a pistol, a
single-shot rifle, and a shotgun, and fought with the butt of the gun
across the porch, through the hall, and into the front room. He was
holding them off when a Negro on the outside reached through the window
sill and, from behind, sliced his throat with a razor.

The
Preacher’s men had great respect for Captain Barrow’s bravery. They
drank his blood and spared his corpse mutilation. Instead, they laid him
out in a bedquilt and placed a plug of tobacco on his breast.

It
was ten o’clock Monday morning when they left there, and the two bands
soon converged. They then numbered about fifty. The Preacher’s vision of
a mass insurrection was coming true. White men were trying to form a
force ahead of the band but some of the men, on seeing the bleeding and
mutilated bodies of women, hurried back to their farms to hide their own
wives and children. Hundreds of women and children were gathering in
the county seat at Jerusalem, unaware that the band’s winding course was
directed there.

On the way The Preacher’s formidable force
passed more deserted places, but got its biggest haul at Walker’s
country corner. A children’s boarding school was there and a large
distillery, a blacksmith shop, and the wheelwright, and it had taken
some time to gather all the people in the neighborhood. Before they
could start for Jerusalem, the Negroes were on them. Some escaped to the
screams of those being chased and butchered. More than ten were killed
there, mostly children.

From the Walker massacre, the band
headed directly for Jerusalem. By then eighteen white men had gathered
with arms at some distance from the town, where four hundred unarmed
people had collected. The Preacher’s band of sixty would have reached
the town first except that his lieutenants overruled him when they
passed the famous brandy cellar at Parker’s deserted plantation, three
miles from town. They tarried there to quench their thirsts.

The
eighteen white men came on them in Parker’s field and opened fire. In a
short, pitched battle the boldest Negroes, leading a charge, fell, and
most of the insurrectionists fled. The Preacher escaped with twenty of
his most faithful followers, and headed for the Carolina border.

He
was seeking new recruits then. They were slow coming in and victims
were getting scarce. Late in the afternoon The Preacher, still supported
by the Apollo-like Hark and Will with his broadax, allowed a single
armed planter to hold off his band from a lady with two children. That
planter’s family had already escaped to safety.

[After camping
that night]…at dawn, The Preacher started for the large and handsome
home of Dr. Blunt, one of the county’s few plantations of the legend,
and on the edge of the district of yesterday’s triumph. Not seeking
victims then, The Preacher wanted fresh supplies and recruits to put
heart and strength back into the insurrection.

He reached the
Blunts’ yard fence just before daylight. A precautionary shot was fired
to see if the darkened house was deserted, as expected. Then the
powerful Hark broke down the gate, and the group advanced toward the
house, looking for salves to join them. The band was within twenty yards
of the house when firing broke out from the front porch. Hark Travis,
one of the original conspirators…fell wounded in the first volley. When
The Preacher, shaken but grown desperate, tried to rally his force for
an attack, another volley dropped two more. His men broke. At that
moment, Dr. Blunt’s slaves came swarming out of hiding places, armed
with grub hoes, and rushed the insurrectionists. The Preacher fled with
his men, Dr. Blunt’s slaves rounded up several prisoners, including the
wounded Hark, crawling toward a cotton patch.

Dr. Blunt, his
fifteen-year-old son, and his manager had done the firing, while the
women loaded single-shot rifles and shotguns. Before The Preacher’s men
arrived, Dr. Blunt had given his own slaves the choice of fighting with
his family or leaving. They chose unanimously to fight.

More
in desperation than purpose [The Preacher] led the dozen remaining
followers to retrace their triumphant steps of the day before. At the
first plantation the Greenville County cavalry militia rode them down.
They killed will, the ax-executioner, and killed or captured all except
The Preacher and two others. The insurrection was over then, though the
alarmed neighbors did not know it.

Following the Greenville
cavalry, other militia units poured into the county during the next two
days, and US Marines from Norfolk. The two men who had escaped with The
Preacher were captured. Many who had followed the leader during the
successful stages of Monday had returned to their homes. They were
hunted down, some killed and others taken to jail. But The Preacher
eluded them until the beginning of October.

While changing
hiding places on another Sunday, he encountered a poor farmer in some
woods. Like his neighbors, this Mr. Phipps was carrying a gun when he
came upon the ragged, emaciated, and wretched-looking Preacher, who
immediately surrendered.

No demonstration was made against The
Preacher when he was brought to jail or when he and fifty-two others
were brought to trial. Of these, seventeen were hanged and twelve
transported. Of five free Negroes among them, one was acquitted, the
others went to Superior Court, where one more was acquitted and three
convicted. The Preacher confessed fully to his leadership and to the
details of the murder of more than fifty white people.

With The Preacher’s execution, the case was closed and entered the record books as Nat Turner’s Rebellion.

In
history, the unelaborated reference to “Nat Turner’s Rebellion” has
been made so casually for so long that the tag has no association with
the terror and horror of mass murder. Also, to the population of the
United States today the slave insurrection in Haiti is a remote thing,
part of the inevitable and the just march of events. But to the South,
where white refugees had fled – at least one to Southampton County – the
Haiti massacre was the dread reminder of what could happen to them.
With Nat Turner, it had happened. The deep fear of the blacks’ uprising
against them had been implemented. It was never to leave.

To convey the lives of the people buried beneath them, and the
expectations for what comes after death, symbolism has long been part of
tombstones. Above is our guide to some of the most prevalent cemetery
symbols. Take it along on your next wander through the necropolis!

The siege and capture of Fort Macon will be played out
in three separate re-enactments this weekend as Fort Macon State Park
hosts one of the signature events of the centennial celebration of North
Carolina’s State Park system.

“This is the biggest re-enactment we’ve ever had. We’ve got three battles planned, two on Saturday and one on Sunday,” Fort Macon State Park Superintendent Randy Newman said.

An estimated 400 re-enactors will be in attendance.

Throughout
2016, North Carolina State Parks will be celebrating its centennial
with a series of events and ceremonies. This weekend’s lineup of
activities at Fort Macon State Park is the first of several signature
events.

"I feel like that (NAACP) is a racist group, as well as the KKK. I don't
care about them either," he told attendees at the meeting, as quoted by
the newspaper. "I don't want to be a part of no group that's got
something to do just because of your color. I don't think they're
right."

"Even if Trump reaches the magic number of 1,237 the media and RNC are
touting, that does not mean Trump is automatically the nominee,"
Haugland said. "The votes earned during the primary process are only
estimates and are not legal convention votes. The only official votes to
nominate a candidate are those that are cast from the convention
floor."

Yiannopoulos is a deliberately controversial figure, and his presence on campus prompted a student protest.

A female faculty member—now dubbed Melissa Click 2.0–tried to
interfere, telling Schow and her camera crew that they were required to
accompany her inside. They had to follow “certain regulations that the
university is guided by” because AU is providing “a safe space for
everybody who works or studies on this campus,” she claimed.

After the faculty member realized Schow’s group was recording her,
she became hostile. “Are you kidding me?” she asked. “Seriously, I’m
calling the police.”

The police didn’t immediately respond to her call. Later, when the
cops did appear, the faculty member expected them to escort the
journalists off campus. Instead, they wanted to have a chat with the
faculty member, according to Breitbart News.

“The police came over and she thought they were going to save her but actually they escorted HER away,” Schow wrote on Twitter.

Ted Cruz’s campaign faced more allegations of dirty tricks after the Maine governor, Paul LePage, took to Facebook to condemn the Texas senator’s campaign as being run by “greedy political hooligans.”

The fiery and controversial governor claimed on Friday that the Trump
and Cruz campaigns had previously reached a “unity deal” to elect
delegates to the national convention in proportion to results of the
Pine Tree state’s 5 March caucuses.

Such an allocation would deliver 12 Cruz delegates, nine for Trump and two for John Kasich, the Ohio governor.

However, LePage, a Trump supporter, said on the eve of Maine’s state
convention that the Cruz campaign had reneged on the deal, believing
they could fill all 20 elected delegate slots on the ballot. “I
can’t stand by and watch as Cruz and the Republican establishment
forcibly overrule the votes of Mainers who chose Trump and Kasich,” said LePage.

Over the decades, the left has continued to push its agenda and has
met little (if no) resistance. One person is offended by a prayer in
school, but the rest of the people aren’t? Prayer is gone. One person
is offended by a nativity scene, but the rest aren’t? The nativity
scene is gone. Now, the left (in the form of the media and corporate
America) are claiming that men who think they are women should be
allowed in women’s restrooms. We know they are wrong, and here’s why.
But will we do anything about it?

In listing the reasons why men who think or pretend that they are
women should not be allowed in women’s restrooms, this could actually be
the shortest column I’ve ever written. The reason: common sense.
There. Done. All finished. Right?

Unfortunately, the left does not care at all about common sense or
common decency. They are all about pushing aside values and replacing
them with government mandates. In the name of “tolerance,” they are
telling us how we can think, what we can say, and what we can do. It’s
wrong, but in this case, they have gone too far, and this could (and
should) be our opportunity to fight back.

In Samuel Eliot Morison’s “The Oxford History of the American People,” there is a single sentence about Harriet Tubman.

“An illiterate field hand, (Tubman) not only escaped herself but
returned repeatedly and guided more than 300 slaves to freedom.”

Morison, however, devotes most of five chapters to the greatest
soldier-statesman in American history, save Washington, that pivotal
figure between the Founding Fathers and the Civil War — Andrew Jackson.

You by posting here and lurking here @ WRSA are risking a
raid at any time. Your entire life is being scrutinized by wonks at
desks in fusion centers compiling threat assessments on your activity
profiles, probably daily. Where you go, who you talk to, what you buy
etc etc. It’s not some story on the web, I’ve tracked the IP addresses
back.

"Good evening Mayor Signer, Councilmen. My name is Susan Hathaway and I live in Sandston.

I
could easily stand before you tonight and spend my three minutes
talking about the honor of Robert E. Lee, or the valor and sacrifice of
the Confederate soldiers who served under him, or the fact that the War
Between the States was NOT fought to keep anyone enslaved, or the fact
that this onslaught of PC revisionism has absolutely nothing to do with
perceived "racism" or "white supremacy"...but you all know this and
choose to ignore facts in favor of hysteria.

Court documents reveal that a Minnesota Muslim who was allegedly
plotting with others to join the Islamic State discussed routing
potential terrorists through Mexico to carry out attacks on U.S. soil.

Gules Ali Omar reportedly told members of ISIS that a route through
Mexico into the United States could be used to smuggle in potential
terrorists according to documents obtained by Breitbart Texas that were
filed by prosecutors earlier this week.

Omar was alleged to have been conspiring with a group of Muslim men
to join the fight with ISIS to carry out attacks against this country.

Reverend William J. Barber of Goldsboro, President of the North
Carolina $NAACP$ and architect of the Moral Monday movement testified at a
Congressional luncheon briefing on what he calls the threat of voter
suppression Thursday.

The event featured national civil rights leaders, scholars, and top
voting experts and was moderated by renowned news journalist Roland S.
Martin of NewsOne. Barber, was a special guest speaker on the topic:
“How Voter Suppression Efforts Are Threatening Our Democracy”

The briefing was sponsored by the Transformative Justice Coalition
(TJC), led by noted civil rights attorney Barbara R. Arnwine, former
Executive Director of the Lawyer’s Committee for Civil Rights Under the
Law, and also sponsored by the National Election Defense Coalition
(NEDC).

Barber feels the evisceration of provisions of the Voting Rights Act
by the Supreme Court has allowed states to brazenly restrict voting
rights.

Remembrance

Execution of Colonel Ho Ngoc CanLast words: "If I won the war, I would not condemn you as you have condemned me.I would not humiliate you as you have humiliated me.I would not ask you questions that you asked me.I fought for the freedom of my people.I have merit and I am not guilty.No one can convict me.History will criticize you as my Communist enemy.You want to kill me, then kill me.Do not blindfold me.Down with the Communists.Long live the Republic of Viet Nam !"

Colonel CraigMandeville:

“They wanted the people to see that he was dead,” said Craig Mandeville, an American adviser to the South Vietnamese army who fought side by side with Can. “He was believed to be some sort of invincible guy. The North Vietnamese thought that, too, and I even thought that when I fought with him.”

“He said, ‘OK, the country’s fallen, but by God we’re still South Vietnamese and we’re free,’ ” Mandeville recalled. “So he went down to Chuong Tien province and rounded up all these soldiers down there to form a Free Vietnam.”

Col. Can didn’t live long after that, but the legacy of his struggle lives on.

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Core Creek Militia

==============================My sixth great grandfather, his wife, and five of his six children were killed in battle with the Tuscarora Indians at Core Creek, NC.

The Seven Blackbirds

==============================My third great grandfather was an Ensign in the Revolutionary War, and saved his unit's flag after being wounded at the Battle of Brandywine. He was also at Kingston (Kinston), Wilmington, Charleston, Two Sisters and Augusta. He was at the defeat at Brier Creek and also Bee Creek.

Requiem Aeternam -
Eternal Rest Grant unto Them
==============================
My second great grandfather was killed in action on May 3, 1863 at the Battle of Chancellorsville.
=============================
My great grandfather and great uncle knew all the men in the "Civil War Requiem" video as they were part of the 53rd NC which was the sole unit defending Fort Mahone. (Fort Mahone was named "Fort Damnation" by the Yankees) *Handpicked men of the 53rd (My great grandfather was one of these) made the final, night assault at Petersburg in an attempt to break Grant's line. This was against Fort Stedman which was a few miles to the slight northeast. They initially succeeded, but reinforcements drove them back. This video is made from photographs which were taken the day after the 53rd evacuated the lines the night before to begin the retreat to Appomattox. I have many more pictures taken by the same photographer, one of these shows a 14 year old boy and the other is the famous picture of the blond, handsome soldier with his musket.
===========================
*General Gordon promised the men a gold medal and 30 days leave if they accomplished their task and many years after the War my great grandfather wrote General Gordon, who was then governor of Georgia about this incident. They exchanged several letters which I have framed. See first link below.
===========================
*The Attack On Fort Stedman
============================
"His Colored Friends"
============================
Lee's Surrender
=============================
My Black NC Kinfolks
============================
Punished For Being Caught!

Great Grandfather Koonce

He was a drummer boy in the WBTS, survived the War only to die a few years later. He was caught in an ice storm on his way home, but instead of seeking shelter, continued on his horse until the end. His clothes had to be cut off and he died a few days later.